


Retrograde

by LAStoryWriterAlex



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Crack Fic, F/M, Having An Audience Kink, Having Sex While Someone Else Sleeps In The Same Bed Kink, I REGRET NOTHING, I'll add this because apparently this is the deciding factor, IT'S ALL CRACK, Jon x Dany & Dany x Gendry endgame, Jon x Gendry if you squint, Listening to Others Have Sex Kink, Lots of kinks clearly, Love Triangle, Masturbation, Multi, Past Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Polygamy, Season 8 canon up until middle of 8x04, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, You Have Been Warned, aren't all fics crack fics?, but not really and it's not explicit which is why it's not tagged, cheating kinda but not really since Jon did reject Dany, explicit Dany x Gendry sex, explicit Jon x Dany sex, getting caught kink, if you're not outright plagiarizing and just copy-pasting source material, minor political intrigue, of whether or not a person is "tagging correctly", other characters play minor roles but they're not that important to the story, porn with a little plot, surprise surprise Gendry is actually the only one on Dany's counsel with any common sense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-01-06 05:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21221069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LAStoryWriterAlex/pseuds/LAStoryWriterAlex
Summary: Smarting from Jon's rejection after the celebration feast, Dany retreats to the Winterfell stables to clear her head and have a private moment to lament the love she knows she's losing.What Dany least expects is for her new Lord of Storm's End to discover her in the stables, and for Gendry too to be  reeling from his own failed relationship.The two are outsiders in this cold and unforgiving place. Is it any wonder that they find solace in each other's arms?And is it any wonder that watching his aunt with another man stirs emotions in Jon he wishes he could set aside, but can't?*Please read the tags. Seriously, the tags lay it all out and tell you everything you need to know about this fic. The whole fic isn't written yet but it's planned and the tags are for the entire fic. So if you need spoilers to see how it ends to decide if you want to read or not, there they are.**Title of the fic is from James Blake’s song of the same name. Feel free to listen to it while reading! I felt it had the perfect vibe for this story :D





	1. Cast Aside Like A Broken Toy, Picked Up Like A Precious Treasure

_ A/N: It made a lot of sense to me to pair Dany and Gendry because both were in love with Starks and both eventually were rejected by Starks. Tags and summary make it _ ** _very_ ** _ clear what this fic is about and what it contains. Yes this includes Jonerys, but it contains Dany x Gendry too, hence why they are the first ship in the ship tags. There are graphic depictions of Dany and Gendry having sex (spoiler not spoiler if you read the tags), so if that is not your cup of tea, you have been thoroughly warned multiple times (tags, summary, and this Author’s Note). _

_ As always, I stand by my fellow authors. _

While Daenerys considered herself a strong woman, this was one of those rare times she allowed her queenly mask to slip so she could let out some of the anguish that had been building inside since her arrival in this hell-hole Jon called “home.”

She all but ran to the stables, chest heaving, the image of Jon’s face full of disgust as he pulled away from her swimming before her eyes, haunting her. How could he kiss her one moment and then pull away from her in revulsion the next? How could he go from whispering sweet nothings in her ear on the journey to Winterfell, to being barely able to look at her? It made no sense and it was a pain unlike any Dany had ever felt. Yes, she had lost her first husband and yes she had left behind a lover in Meereen. But Jon’s rejection? If there was one thing that could break her, Dany was sure this would be it.

As she pushed open the stable doors and let the smells of hay and horse wash over her, Dany’s breathing started to calm. It was the one thing Jon couldn’t take away from her. The one thing that had no memory attached to him. She couldn’t go to the dragons, not now, the sight of Rhaegal conjuring up images of Jon astride him. She couldn’t walk about the castle, every inch of it screaming that she was an outsider. But here in the stables, she could soak in the scent she had always associated with _ freedom. _

Slowly, Dany approached her black palfrey, slipping off her glove in order to stroke his nose. Per the Dothraki custom, Dany hadn’t named him officially, but she thought of him as _ Shadow. _ Fitting for a creature so elegant and dark. 

As she stroked his nose and rubbed her cheek on his soft skin, Dany wondered when it got so complicated between her and Jon. Things had started off so...fatefully. It was as if they were meant to meet and fall in love. Really, it still did. Out of all the men in Westeros, she just so happened to fall for the one man who was her last living relation in the world?

It should have been perfect. As the last two Targaryens, they could defeat the woman whose family had torn theirs apart, _ together. _ They could take back their family’s kingdom, _ together. _ They could rule, _ together. _

But now Jon couldn’t even kiss her.

She knew he still _ loved _ her. The tenderness of his words communicated as much. But he could never _ show _ her that love, not anymore. Now all he could give her were words. Words that she didn’t want to hear. _ You are my queen. _ Queen, monarch, ruler. That’s all she would ever be, to him and everyone else. She would never be a _ woman. _ They didn’t want the woman. The woman wasn’t of use to them and the woman disgusted Jon. 

He had touched her, licked her, fucked her. Cried out in ecstasy as he shot his seed inside of her. But now that was all done. Now she was forbidden to him. He was a guilt-ridden, self-loathing masochist who would deny himself water to save from dying of thirst if he were told he wasn’t allowed to drink it. It didn’t matter to him.

She felt like she had been tricked. Like he had brought her here to use her for her armies and dragons and weapons and cunt, and now that her usefulness was over, he was casting her aside. _ Who manipulated whom? _ she had asked Sansa, meaning it in jest. But now that the war against the dead was over, those words felt more true than ever.

Dany couldn’t sit still. She couldn’t remain cooped up in this castle a moment longer. She would have liked to ride on Drogon for as far as he would carry her but as she couldn’t look at the dragons without thinking of Jon, her _ Shadow _ would have to do.

But just as Dany moved away from his stall to grab a saddle, the stable doors opened, causing Dany’s heart to nearly leap out of her chest. Who could possibly be in the stables at this time of night?

“Your Grace,” Gendry Waters, _ Baratheon _ rather, stuttered, clearly not expecting to see her here. “My apologies, I just wanted...just needed...” It was as he struggled to find the words that Dany noted the tear streaks on his cheeks, the strain in his voice. _ He’s been crying, _ she thought, and though she couldn’t know for sure yet, Dany thought it might be for the same reason she had been.

“Just wanted to escape?” Dany offered and Gendry stared at her, his head cocked to the side in confusion.

“How did you know?” he asked her quietly, dabbing at his cheeks with his sleeve.

“Because, I’m here too.” For a moment they just stared at each other, and for some reason as Dany took in the once bastard’s features, her stomach gave a little flip. She was almost never alone, as she was now. Someone was always at her side, either a counselor, or an advisor, or a guard...or Jon. But there was no one else at the stables, save her and Gendry. No counselor, no advisor, no guard. _ No Jon. _

“You’re alone,” Gendry noted as if reading her thoughts, and she nodded apprehensively. Then, realizing his assessment must have sounded oddly accusatory, Gendry gave a short, awkward bow. “I apologize, Your Grace. I’ll leave you to—”

“You’re not bothering me, Lord Baratheon,” Dany acknowledged. “If that’s what you fear.” As Gendry’s face relaxed at her words, Dany’s stomach gave another small flip. She wanted to add that he could stay as long as he liked but the sentiment felt odd. Too… _ forward. _

“Where’s Jon?” Gendry asked, almost as a distraction. “Err, the Warden of the North?” he corrected himself, though Dany didn’t give two shits if anyone addressed Jon with his proper titles right now. The respect people had for him was of little interest to her when he had recently treated her with so little of it. Her queenly mask slipping, Dany rolled her eyes.

“Sleeping off his drink, probably fantasizing about being King of the Free Folk or something,” she jested darkly and Gendry tilted his head in confusion again.

“Why aren’t you with him?” he asked, choosing to ignore her last comment. At his question, Dany’s eyes prickled with tears and she looked away from him, swallowing hard. Noting her demeanor, he hedged a guess. “Is it...is it his _ sisters?” _ The way Gendry hissed the word _ sisters _ made the hairs on Dany’s neck stand on end and she thought she was beginning to understand the reason for Gendry’s need to get away. They were more similar than she initially thought.

“No, not his sisters,” she admitted. She only wished it were that simple.

“What then? You two seemed so...happy when we were on the ship.” As he spoke, Gendry took a tentative step forward, then another when she didn’t back away. _ His eyes are so blue, _ Dany couldn’t help but notice. Blue and beautiful, and staring only at her. She wondered if prompting her to talk about her problems was a solace from his own. 

“Things have changed,” Dany hedged. She couldn’t tell Gendry the real reason Jon had rejected her. Couldn’t let the truth get out about who Jon really was. Though as she stared at the new Lord of Storm’s End, she was tempted. Who would Gendry even tell, after all? Lately it seemed she had no one to confide in. Not Tyrion, not Varys, not Jon, not Missandei. She was alone, always alone. She wished she had someone to speak to about all that troubled her. A shoulder to cry on. _ A friend. _

“Things have changed for _ him, _ you mean,” Gendry correctly guessed. “Because if it was you who rejected him, I’m guessing you wouldn’t be in here trying to escape, now would you?”

“You’re very observant and very brusque, Lord Baratheon,” Dany noted with a raised eyebrow. Gendry smiled, his first since happening upon her here. 

“I was raised a bastard. Forgive me, My Queen, but I was never taught the proper way to speak to royalty.” He gave an over exaggerated bow making Dany’s lips quirk and her eyes roll.

“I was raised on the streets of Essos. I wasn’t taught how to talk proper either,” Dany confessed with a small huff of laughter, and she thought she saw Gendry’s shoulders sag, possibly in relief that he had assessed the situation correctly and he could be so informal with her without causing offense. “Jon was though,” Dany suddenly noted soberly. “Jon got to grow up in a castle, with servants and hot meals and an education.” _ He knew family, _ Dany added in her head. _ He knew home. _ And perhaps that was why he didn’t appreciate their relationship as much as Dany did. Why he no longer seemed to want to fight for it. For while he was all _ she _ had, Jon had his sisters, his brother, the castle home he grew up in. He had so much more than only her, as if she were just… _ unnecessary. _

“Jon’s an idiot,” Gendry told her bluntly. 

Dany shook her head and snapped out of her miserable musings. “And what makes you say that, Lord Baratheon?” Dany asked him, not quite sure why she took two more steps toward him, slowly, steadily closing the gap, but she did anyway. It felt good being close to someone. To speak so plainly with someone. As she might Missandei - when she was not distracted by Grey Worm - or Jorah when he was alive. 

“Because if I had someone like you, I wouldn’t let you go for anything,” Gendry confessed, and the sweetness of his words caused Dany’s breath to hitch. She knew he wasn’t in love with her. That wasn’t where he was speaking from. He was speaking from a place of rejection as well, Dany realized. 

“So Lady Arya has refused your affections?” Dany guessed.

“Aye,” Gendry finally admitted. “I asked her to marry me, be the Lady of Storm’s End alongside me and she turned me down. I don’t give a shit if she’s not lady-like. She can wear pants and train with the master at arms every day if she likes. But still, she doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want me.”

“Then she’s a fool too,” Dany informed him and Gendry merely nodded.

He took a step closer, Dany feeling a small _ pull _ in the center of her stomach, right behind her navel as if attached to a hook and string, the other end attached to… _ Gendry. _ She moved a step closer as well.

Then, she wasn’t quite sure what possessed her to do it. Maybe out of loneliness, maybe out of sheer need, maybe out of genuine attraction and that _ something _ connecting them, Dany didn’t know. But she reached out and cupped Gendry’s cheek all the same, and he let her.

“You have very beautiful eyes, Gendry,” Dany commented. “Did you know that?” She stroked her thumb against his cheek, reveling in the way Gendry leaned into her touch. Sensing where this was going, he snuck a tentative hand around Dany’s waist.

“Do you want…” Gendry began, but let the words trail off. _ Did _ she want? Did he?

“Do you?” she asked in return and Gendry sighed. 

“I’ve never wanted much,” he confessed. “Though, the more I gain, the more I seem to want.” Dany nodded in recognition. She was very familiar with that feeling. 

“And are you the type who lets himself have what he wants? Or are you the type to deny yourself?” Gendry didn’t answer, not with words. Just slipped his other hand around her, pulling her in closer, strong hands running along her back. His embrace was warm and comforting. Inviting. Something about it oddly familiar, but also thrillingly new and exciting. Dany’s blood thrummed in her veins lighting up every nerve in her body, making her hyper aware of everything. The heat of Gendry’s skin under his clothing. The chill of the Northern winter air. The rich, musty smell of the hay lining the stable stalls. The soft nickers of the dosing horses. The loud, erratic beating of her own heart.

Dany let her hand slide down Gendry’s face so she could run her thumb along his bottom lip. 

“This is dangerous,” he whispered, but leaned down to bring their noses together just the same. Dany couldn’t help but smirk at his words.

“You’ve been on the run from Lannister soldiers who wanted you dead. You rowed across the Narrow Sea to escape being burned in tribute to the Red God. You’ve fought dead men in the frozen North. Yet _ this _ frightens you?” Gendry rolled his eyes, but instantly schooled his features to a more serious expression.

“If Jon finds out...”

“Let him,” Dany said carelessly, breathlessly. “He turned away from me as Arya turned away from you. Let them see. They don’t own us Gendry.” Gendry shook his head.

“No, they don’t,” he agreed.

And with that, Gendry’s lips were on hers.

There was nothing soft or hesitant about it. Gendry didn’t kiss her like a green boy eager to please _ the Queen. _ He kissed her with confidence and possessiveness, as though he knew, if nothing else were true in the world, it was that Dany _ belonged _ to him. Perhaps he was just that sure of himself. Or maybe it was that he thought he would only get this one chance to bed a queen and so wasn’t letting the opportunity be wasted by being shy about it. 

Whatever it was, Dany knew Gendry had been right. This _ was _ dangerous. But Dany couldn’t stop it, even if she wanted to. Not when Gendry was kissing her like he _ owned _ her. Pushing her up against the stable stall like he had a _ right _ to. Hands slipping off her coat and unlacing the ties of her pants like he had done it a thousand times before.

It felt good to be desired without him pulling away in disgust. It felt good to be kissed without guilt. It felt good to have this one small chance to not be a queen, but _ a woman. _

His mouth didn’t taste of ale, as Jon’s had, but something sweeter. Something warmer. Something completely intoxicating.

Gendry wasted no time in shoving down her pants and shorts, bending down to slip one leg out of them and over her boot, then the other, giving Dany a brief respite with which to fill her lungs with as much oxygen as possible before his lips returned to hers. 

When he stood and took her mouth once more, he kissed her like he was punishing her, like he was worshipping her. Dany didn’t know how it could be both at the same time but she knew she loved it and never wanted to be kissed any other way. The warm wet pressure of his tongue seeking hers. The soft silk of his jaw, freshly shaved sliding under her fingertips. 

She was lost. Head swimming in the sea that was Gendry’s touch and affection. His lips trailing down the column of her throat to lick and suck. His fingers dragging up the hem of her slip to tease between her thighs. Dany felt helpless. Like she was just a passenger, being led along a path by someone else. Everything out of her control.

But that’s what she liked best about it, she realized. Giving up that control made her feel more free and more powerful than anything. Gendry shoved her slip’s straps down to expose her breasts and she submitted to him fully. Closing her eyes and arching into his touch, she spread her legs, allowing him to step between them and grind impatient hips into her core. He wasn’t Jon but Dany didn’t care. She needed _ something. _ Needed _ this. _ And Gendry was willing to give it to her. Was willing to _ accept _ her. Something she had experienced too infrequently since arriving in Westeros. _ Welcome. Belonging. Connection. _

As he finally fumbled with his own trousers, Gendry looked up at her, nearly nose to nose, both of them panting. “You want this?” he asked, hand reaching inside to fist his cock, the sight rendering Dany speechless. Instead of answering, she merely clung to his shoulders and allowed him to hoist her up, pressing her into the wall as he took her mouth again, the rhythm now familiar, comforting, _needed._ _“Come here, love,” _Gendry growled against her lips, holding her hips steady with one hand, lining himself up with her sopping sex with the other, slowly sinking in… 

_ “Oh gods,” _ Dany breathed, back arched, eyes clenched, toes curled, mouth agape. _ “Gods, oh gods!” _ It had been weeks since she and Jon lay together and Dany could feel the passage of time with every inch Gendry sunk into her. Or perhaps he was just that large, she wasn’t sure. She didn’t know anything at the moment. Except that she wanted _ more. _

He started slow, getting her used to it, letting her adjust to him. But once he could slide in and out with ease, Gendry set a punishing pace. Hips slamming into Dany’s, driving her wild. Driving her _ mad. _ The feel of him inside her, under her fingertips, mouth against hers plundering there as forcefully as his cock plundered her cunt, taking everything, all her moans, all her sighs, all her pleasure, and claiming it for his own, making sure she knew exactly who he was, knew exactly who was giving it to her like this. 

She was mindless, blissfully wrapped up in him. This boy she had met months before who had followed Jon like a lost wolf pup to the edge of the world, now fucking her so good, there was no mistaking it; he wasn’t a _ boy. _ He was a _ man. _

He whispered into her ear, lovely things, dirty things, _ filthy _ things. Calling her his _ good little queen. Tight little queen. Love. Daenerys. Your Grace. So fucking tight. So wet for me. Give it to me, love. Come on my cock. Be a good little queen and come on my cock, Dany. _

She was _ so close. _ It was so good. Gendry. _ Her Gendry. _ She didn’t care about anything else. Nor any _ one _ else. Just him. Just him sliding that fat cock of his inside her over and over again. _ Almost. Almost… _

_ “Yes, come on, love,” _ Gendry coaxed, mouth at her neck, hand between their bodies, thumbing her clit. _ “You’ve got it now, come for me.” _

_ So close. So close… _

_ Close like those footsteps on the dirt outside the stable doors… _

Footsteps.

Footsteps?

Footsteps!

Startled, Dany looked up over Gendry’s shoulder, and she locked eyes with… _ him. _

_ “Gendry!” _ she gasped and slapped his back but he either thought she was doing so out of pleasure and hadn’t heard the footsteps, or he just didn’t care and was determined to see her to climax.

Dany’s chest was a tempest of emotions as she stared into those dark eyes. Hurt, betrayal, petty satisfaction, anger, humiliation, bliss… 

_ Bliss… _

_ Bliss… _

_ Bliss… _

_ “Gendry!” _ Dany clenched her eyes shut and she screamed his name as she came, clinging to him as if he were the only thing holding her to the earth, and really, in that moment, he was, he was all she had. This silly little tryst in this stuffy old stable in the middle of a place that wasn’t her home or Gendry’s, in the middle of the agony that was unrequited love, they had both somehow managed to find _ this. _

Whatever _ this _ was, Dany didn’t know. 

But as Gendry grunted and hummed releasing his seed deep inside of her, Dany knew whatever _ this _ was, she wanted more of it. 

Even if she had to take it while the man she loved who could not reciprocate all over her feelings back to her stood and watched at the door… 

  
_A/N: Yes, in case you were wondering, it's Jon. Jon's standing in the doorway watching them. Because who else would it be? _

_Sorry about _ _the cliffhanger! Will update in the next few days!_


	2. Love You Always, Hate You Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon confronts Daenerys. Plans to finally take out Cersei are made.

_ A/N: Because of the way this chapter unfolded while writing, this fic has a little more political intrigue and angst than I initially intended, but at the same time, I’m not disappointed by that. I think you guys will like (especially politics-wise if you’re not a fan of Sansa and are a fan of Davos).  _

_ Thanks to everyone who commented in support of last chapter. I’m so glad so many of you liked it and I loved everyone who said that this initially wasn’t their “thing” but you took a chance anyway and enjoyed it.  _

** _Chapter 2_ **

Jon’s heart pounded harder with each slow step he took toward the stables. He knew those sounds. Knew  _ her _ sounds. And this was where her Dothraki handmaid had said she had gone. The only question was, who was she with?

He had to know. He didn’t want to see, but he had to. Who was the man who had replaced him so swiftly? After he turned from her, whose arms had she fallen into?  _ Whose dick has she fallen onto? _ he thought darkly, though it made his stomach twist with the smallest amount of guilt. He wished he could go back to the days before their arrival at Winterfell. 

Before he knew the truth. 

Now, what new horrible truth was he to be exposed to?

At the sound of his approaching footsteps, her eyes popped open, locking with his, and she slapped her new lover on the back to get his attention.  _ “Gendry!” _

Jon’s jaw and fists clenched and his nostrils flared. 

_ Gendry?  _

_ GENDRY? _

** _GENDRY?_ **

Everything slowed and turned to red.  _ Gendry. _ The man who had accompanied him beyond The Wall. The man who had helped in saving his life. The man who, hours before, he had given a cup of ale to and toasted as the new Lord of Storm’s End. The man he could have sworn had caught the eye of his sister and returned her affections.  _ Fucking Gendry?? _

_ “Gendry!” _ While a moment before, Dany looked about to push Gendry away so she could breathe fire down on Jon, now her eyes squeezed shut and she cried out another man’s name in climax. And Jon could do nothing but watch as Gendry came too, grunting and swearing as his hips stuttered into Dany’s, Dany petting the back of his head as he kissed and bit her neck coming down from the high. 

_ “Gendry,”  _ Dany whispered breathlessly,  _ “Gendry, stop. Stop.” _ When her lover pulled away and set her back on her feet, Dany nodded in Jon’s direction. Gendry looked over his shoulder at Jon with bleary eyes, clearly too dazed to give a shit that someone had just watched him come inside the Queen. Then… he  _ smirked. _

Jon took two steps forward before he could think but stopped again when Dany did as well, ever the territorial dragon, her face twisted in anger. He couldn’t believe she had the audacity to look at  _ him _ like that right now. He had wanted to find her so they could talk, so he could explain himself more completely, apologize, and yet when he found her, she was getting fucked by another man as if he had never meant anything to her. 

“If you’re quite finished, I’d like a word with the Queen,” Jon spat, hand twitching. 

Gendry looked between Jon and Dany as he did up his trousers and smirked again.  _ Arrogant little bastard. _ The young man nodded. “Yeah, she certainly finished.” Jon sucked in a sharp breath, using every bit of self-control he had not to unsheath Longclaw and relieve him of his head. 

As Dany smoothed her dress down her front, Gendry bent and picked up her coat, holding it out for her so she could slide her arms into it. “Here you go, love.” Murmuring her thanks, Dany kept her eyes locked with Jon’s, even as Gendry pressed his lips to her ear and whispered something Jon couldn’t hear. She momentarily looked away to stare at Gendry,  _ softly, _ and nod.  _ What? _ What did he say to her? What did he ask her? What was Dany nodding at? Jon had to know. He had to know everything. Every terrible detail. Every place Gendry had kissed her, every place Gendry had touched her. How long he had been inside of her. Everything. He would make her tell him as soon as the bastard was gone. 

Gendry approached the stable doors then, stopping in front of Jon who blocked them. It would have been so easy. Gendry was unarmed. No armor on. His head would be rolling in the hay on the floor of the stables before he even realized his life was over. Jon pictured it in his mind. He wanted to see that. Wanted to feel that. But he guessed Dany would just burn him alive for murder. And he had to know everything first. 

Jon stepped aside and Gendry left without a word. As he watched Gendry walk away, the hairs on the back of Jon’s neck rose. He almost didn’t want to turn back to her. Didn’t want to look at her. But the urge to find out absolutely every miniscule detail of what had just taken place was too tempting. 

When he turned around, Dany was collecting her trousers and smallclothes from the ground, shaking out stray bits of hay and folding them neatly over her arm to carry back to the castle.  _ She was just going to walk about the castle with no smallclothes on? _ While Gendry’s  _ bastard _ seed just dripped down her thighs? Jon had to clench his fists as if to physically stop himself from giving in to that vein of thought. That wasn’t him. He didn’t discriminate, bastard or true born. He shouldn’t, anyway, tempting as it was now. Still, there was the issue of... _ her. _

“I guess that’s one of the many perks of being the Queen,” Jon began, “You get to fuck whoever you like.” Dany’s jaw tightened.

“You lost the right to have an opinion on who I fuck the moment you pushed me away.”

“How long?” Jon demanded, an ugly little thought rearing its head. 

“What?”

“How long have you two been…” He couldn’t finish the question. He couldn’t speak. He didn’t want to know. He had to know. How long had she been fucking Gendry behind his back?

Dany snarled and took a step forward, looking like she wanted to hit him. “You  _ think _ that I could have possibly had enough room in my heart for  _ him _ when I had already given it to you?” she whispered, her voice deadly. 

Jon looked away, unable to meet her eyes. Unable to accept the truth. That he was partially to blame for this. That it was his actions that had caused this. 

“You utter _ arse,  _ Jon Snow,” Dany went on. But Jon found his voice again before she was able to insult him further. 

“How?” he breathed. “Tell me how… _ this… _ happened.” At his words, she looked down at her arms folded over her chest. 

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” Dany replied quietly, and with that she raised her chin again, Queenly façade sliding smoothly into place, and she pushed past him to leave the stables. Was she just...walking away from him? Jon shook his head and gritted his teeth. No. No, he wouldn’t allow it. 

“Like seven hells you don’t,” Jon hissed grabbing her arm, which Dany shook off, snapping back. 

“Get off me.” She walked a few more feet and Jon caught her again.

“Tell me  _ why,” _ he demanded, getting shrugged off again and scrambling to catch her again.

“You  _ know _ why!” she spat as she trudged through the mud and snow of the courtyard, heading to the Great Keep.

“No, I don’t fucking know why. We were talking about… about… and then you just left. And then next I see you… Tell me why!” He couldn’t say it all out loud, not with the potential for people to be listening and also because he just couldn’t get out certain words. Couldn’t talk about his parents without wanting to gag. Definitely wasn’t going to say Gendry’s name aloud. 

Dany paused outside the entrance to the Great Keep, face flushed, chest heaving, but not because of the effort of walking through the snow or even the sex. She had unshed tears in her eyes. 

“I don’t owe you  _ anything,” _ she said, deadly serious. “I gave you everything you ever wanted. The weapons, the armies, the dragons, my love. You used it all until you had no use for it anymore.  _ I don’t owe you a godsdamned thing.” _

With that she yanked open the door and it was a moment before Jon, dazed by her words, was able to catch her again. “You think I used you for your help against the Night King?” Jon asked incredulous. “You think I…what? Tricked you?  _ Made _ you fall in love with me?” The idea was absurd but as her eyes sparkled with more fresh tears, he knew that that was exactly what she thought.  _ No…  _ “Dany I would never. I love you.”

“You can’t love me anymore,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I just said I love you,” Jon hissed, taking a step closer, though when he automatically reached for her, he withdrew on instinct. And she noticed.  _ Damnit. _

Eyes lifting from his hands which were decidedly not touching her, to his face, she noted, “As I said, you  _ can’t _ love me. You might want to love me. But you  _ can’t _ anymore, can you?”

“Dany…”

“It disgusts you.” She wasn’t even asking him. It was a statement. And horrifically Jon realized it wasn’t far from the truth. But no, he  _ did _ love her, she could never disgust him. It wasn’t that.  _ Please not that. _

“Please Dany, I love you. I do.”

“Still, even after what you just saw?” 

He inhaled sharply through his nose and gritted his teeth. “Yes. Still. I don’t care about that.” And he didn’t. Or he wouldn’t. Or he didn’t have to. He wasn’t sure. Fuck, everything was so fucked! 

“Do you love me enough to marry me?” she whispered. Her eyes were raw, rimmed red, her soul naked and bared shining through them.  _ Love me, _ she called to him.  _ Please, love me. _ He wanted to tell her  _ yes _ more than anything. 

“You know I love you,” he told her hoarsely. 

Dany closed her eyes briefly, Jon knew, to stop herself from crying. She would never let herself cry in front of him again. “If we had been brought up together, we’d likely be married already.” All Jon could do was nod. What she said was perfectly true. He was a Targaryen. It shouldn’t matter. None of it should matter.  _ So why did it? _

“Goodnight Lord Snow,” Dany told him icily, turning on her heel to march down the hallway of the keep, Jon following, pleading with her the whole way to no avail until he realized… she was not headed for her own chambers. This was a completely different part of the castle. Where was she…?

_ “Dany,” _ Jon called, grabbing her arm again. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Dany looked to the door at the end of the hall, her face unreadable. “I’m going in there.” She nodded toward the door. Jon grit his teeth, holding back the slew of swear words that were bound to come pouring out if he allowed his mouth to open…  _ Fuck it. _

“And what exactly is in there?” he couldn’t help but ask.  _ Please don’t say it. Please say anything but… _

“It’s where I’m sleeping tonight,” Dany skirted his question.

“Who’s…” Jon clenched his fists again. Dany merely stared back at him, expression neutral, unfeeling. She no longer cared about his emotional pain. Because he had been the cause of so much of hers of late. She was just repaying the favor. _“Tell me _**_he’s_**_ not in there,” _Jon hissed, turning away, unable to look her in the eye. 

“He?” Dany asked.  _ “He _ as in,  _ Gendry?” _ Jon inhaled sharply, unable to answer. He didn’t even want to hear the name. Let alone have her confirm for him that the man he had just caught her fucking was the one she was now running to.  _ Running away from me, _ Jon thought. All he had to do was tell her he would marry her. Tell her he loved her. Touch her. Such simple things. Things he wanted to do. But he couldn’t.

“Yes, that’s Gendry’s room,” Dany answered without needing to be asked. 

“I won’t let you.” Jon gripped her arm again, fingers digging into the soft fabric of her coat and even softer flesh underneath. But Dany just laughed humorlessly.

“ _ Let _ me?” In a flash, she had him pressed up against the stone wall of the hallway, breasts to his chest, hips glued together, her lips a breath away from his… and Jon’s hands flew off of her, trying to get as much distance from her as possible. But he was trapped. “If you want to stop me, then stop me,” she breathed. 

“I’m not leaving,” he told her defiantly, though he still refused to touch her. He wasn’t disgusted by her, by them, he wasn’t.  _ He wasn’t.  _

“Well I am.”

“We need to talk Dany.” What they needed to talk about, Jon didn’t know. They had each said everything that needed to be said. But he had to stall her. Had to change her mind about this, somehow. Even if he couldn’t bear the thought of kissing her, he didn’t want Gendry to either. Didn’t want anyone to. Ever. She was his.  _ His. _ She belonged to him and no one else. No one would ever love her the way he loved her. And he needed her love in return. He didn’t quite know who he was if he didn’t have her love. 

“I’m done talking.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jon insisted and grabbed her again when she started to pull away. He was surprised, however, when Dany simply smirked. 

“You won’t, will you?” She gently plucked his fingers off her arm and took his hand delicately between her own. “Well then, you’ll be waiting out here all night. I hope you brought some cotton to stuff in your ears.” At what Jon was sure was his horrified expression, Dany added, “Or don’t stuff your ears. You can listen. All the while knowing it could be you. If not for your own stubbornness.”

With that, she shrugged him off for the last time and marched through Gendry’s unlocked door. She didn’t even bother with knocking, as if they had already worked past that barrier and were on to the next level of intimacy. Jon ground his teeth together and knocked his head against the stone wall, beyond irritated, mostly with himself. He was an idiot. Dany was right. In a world parallel to their own, they were already married with children, living on Dragonstone while his father ruled the Seven Kingdoms and his mother was still alive. Elia Martel, his half brother and sister, Ned, Robb, and all the rest of them. His family. He could have had everything. Could still have much of it. If he only had the stones to take what he wanted. Instead, he was reduced to slinking around in a darkened hallway, ears pricked for any hint of sound. 

When he thought he heard footsteps coming down the hall, he quickly shut himself into the nearest room, not wishing to be found lingering outside Gendry’s chambers. Why the room next to Gendry’s was unoccupied when they had many of the Unsullied and Dothraki living in tents outside the main gates, Jon had no idea - probably another dig of Sansa’s at Dany’s  _ foreign savage soldiers. _ But no matter now. Jon was just glad he had a space to hide out in. Hide out and  _ listen. _

For a long while, nothing happened at all. Jon tried in vain to listen through the walls, where the mortar was thin and crumbly, but he only caught muffled murmurs. They were speaking in whispers and he thought Dany was doing it on purpose because she knew Jon was trying to hear what they were saying. Were they talking about him? About Arya? About how their passions in the stables had been a mistake and they should never see each other again? 

Jon rolled his eyes at himself. No. The way Dany had looked at Gendry as he whispered into her ear right before he left the stables told Jon that if he could no longer love her, Gendry would do for now. It made him sick to think about. He could have stopped her. She could be in his chambers right now, in his bed, underneath him, tight around him, calling him her betrothed, her husband. He could have everything he had always denied himself. Everything he had always secretly wanted. 

But he couldn’t. 

Sometimes it was easier to be unhappy.

As Jon sighed and was about to leave his post, he heard it. The gentle groaning and creaking of a bed in use. They were at it again.  _ Fffffuuck.  _ Jon bit his bottom lip, fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to leave. He had to get away. But his boots remained firmly planted to the ground on which he stood, ears pricked so he could catch every single minute detail of their second coupling. 

Though he told himself not to, he tried to picture it, in his mind’s eye. Was she on top? Was he? Was she letting him fuck her like a dog, as she had only let Jon once they had been together several weeks and were deeply in love.  _ Gods, _ he still loved her like that. Tainted as that love was now. 

Listening to the two of them, he thought about all the times he had been with Dany. Those nights holed up together in her cabin on the ship. How they had felt like they were a world away from everyone else, only emerging once a day to make the obligatory appearance and to send for food. Eventually, Jon had moved all his belongings into her cabin. Not that it had mattered much anyway. He never needed fresh clothes because he never wore any. They fucked fully naked, they slept fully naked, they ate naked - though sometimes wrapped up in a blanket together to stave off the chill, they played cards naked, they drew up maps of Winterfell and discussed troop and trench placement naked. 

The way she would whimper when he’d lick her. The way little trickles of tears would leak out of the corners of her eyes when it was just  _ sooooooo _ good, her head thrashing back and forth, Jon thinking they were probably being heard by the entire ship but not giving a single fuck about it because all that mattered was  _ her. _

_ Gods, Dany, _ Jon heard Gendry call out and Jon ground his teeth together again.  _ Dany _ was his nickname for her. How  _ dare _ Gendry call her that. How  _ dare _ she let him. 

_ Yeah love. Ride my cock. Good girl. Ride my cock.  _ Fffffffuck, she was on top. Jon knew what it was like to be ridden by Dany. His Dragon Queen. She was used to a gigantic, scaled, fire-breathing beast between her thighs. A shorter-than-average Northman was nothing for her, and she had ridden him well. Would sometimes reach back and roll his stones with her hand, driving him mad. She was so very  _ good _ at it. 

Before Jon knew what he was doing, his hand was down the front of his trousers, reaching for his hard cock, thick and throbbing with a wish to be ridden again. He didn’t know what he was doing. This wasn’t him. He didn’t listen to people fuck and get off on it. He shouldn’t be doing this. It was wrong. It was inappropriate.  _ She’s your aunt…  _

And he loved the sounds he heard. The hard slap of wet skin colliding. Dany’s increasingly insistent moans.  _ That’s it Dany, _ Jon though, stroking himself from root to tip.  _ Ride me love. Fuck me. Fuck your nephew. _

Gods, he was sick in the head.  _ Fuck your nephew, sweetheart. _ He should be put down like a lame horse.  _ Come on, aunty Dany.  _ Or rabid dog.  _ Take your nephew’s cock.  _

_ Touch your tits. That’s it love. _

Jon’s eyes sprung open. Fucking Gendry. The young man’s voice interrupted Jon’s thoughts and steady rhythm of his wanking, but only momentarily.  _ Yes, Dany, touch your tits.  _ Her beautiful, tear-drop shaped tits that fit perfectly in his own hands. Fit perfectly in his mouth. Sucking on them as her cunt milked him dry…

Jon bit his lower lip, swiping the head of his cock of the drop of moisture there to slide up and down his length more smoothly. Reached his free hand down and played with his stones as she would, rolling them, tugging on them gently.  _ Gods, _ he was close. Just a little more. Little more…  _ _

_ Fuck Dany. So good. Come for me love.  _

_ Yes, _ Jon thought.  _ Come for me. Come for your nephew. _

_ Come on, give me one. Come for me. Come on my cock, Dany. _

_ Yes, Dany, come on your nephew’s cock. _

_ Gendry! _

_ Ffffffuck.  _ Jon inhaled sharply, eyes clenched shut as he came, orgasm only slightly stunted by hearing the love of his life call out another man’s name - a reminder that he was alone, in a room that wasn’t his own, listening to his aunt fuck another man and that he was not fucking her himself. Gods it was pathetic. It as so  _ wrong. _

But that didn’t stop him from jerking off once more before finally calling it a night. 

Heading down the hall, face flushed from his orgasms and hands clammy from jerking off, Jon prayed he wouldn’t run into anyone of significance on his way back to his own rooms. But of course, fate just had to make him squirm. The one person who could make everything worse was the exact person who just so happened to round the corner as Jon trudged back from the chamber next to Gendry’s.

“Jon!” “Arya!” they both exclaimed at once. Jon immediately looked down his front and at his hands, praying there was no visible evidence of what he had just done. When he deduced that everything appeared to be in place with no questionable stains anywhere, he looked back up at his sister, who oddly appeared to seem just as guilty of something as he felt. 

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t ask him the same. Her mouth worked a moment, as if she were chewing on a potential response. In the end, she sighed, and he guessed she was settling on the truth.

“I… came to talk to Gendry. We spoke earlier during the feast and I just felt we didn’t leave things as well as I had wished.” Jon rose an eyebrow automatically. That was a much too calm and neutral response for Arya. “Oh, alright. He proposed to me and though I know I did the right thing in turning him down, I don’t want to lose him as a friend and I think I was a bit too cold earlier in my rejection so I just came here to apologize and to tell him that I wish for us to remain close.”

Jon couldn’t help but laugh. It was all he could do to keep from breaking down. What were the odds that both he and Arya would be proposed to on the same night and both would turn those proposals down? Except, it seemed, Arya actually  _ didn’t _ want to marry Gendry. Whereas Jon very much wanted to be with Dany. He just… couldn’t.

“You are such an arse!” Arya told him in response to his inappropriate laughter. She shoved him hard into the stone wall and walked past him, toward Gendry’s chamber. 

“Arya, wait!” Jon grabbed her by the arm, yanking her back. 

“What are you doing?” Arya hissed.

“You can’t go in there,” Jon told her evasively.  _ Fuck. _ He should have just let her go. Discover for herself that Gendry was clearly well over her rejection now. Or at least, he was getting over it as he got under Dany. 

“Why not?” his sister demanded.

“Because… he’s not… alone.” Arya’s eyes widened to the size of a pair of gold dragons. 

“What. Do. You. Mean. He’s. Not. Alone?” Arya punctuated each word in her shock, and likely, hurt. Even if she didn’t love him, it was clear she cared for Gendry. 

“I went to go see him to…” Fuck, what was a believable excuse as to why Jon would go seek out Gendry? Why was he so terrible at thinking on his feet and lying? “…but when I reached his door, I heard… heard him… with someone.”

“With someone?” Arya asked outraged, and Jon was grateful she missed entirely the fact that he hadn’t given her the excuse as to why he allegedly went to speak to Gendry.

“He’s having sex with someone, Arya,” Jon blurted, not wishing for this encounter to last any longer and figuring bald honesty was the best approach. His sister exhaled sharply at his words, hands balling into fists. 

“Oh,” Arya replied shortly. “Well then. Guess he didn’t want to marry me that badly after all. Did you get a good look at the woman I assume is going to be the new  _ Lady of Storm’s End?” _ Jon hesitated for only a moment. Arya had already guessed at his relationship with Dany some time ago. If he revealed her, he would have to reveal himself in the process.

“No,” Jon answered, turning to begin the long walk back to his own chambers, Arya reluctantly following behind. “No I didn’t.” 

Jon wished he could say he was surprised to see Gendry show up with Daenerys to the war council meeting but he really wasn’t. Not after he had listened to them fuck each other stupid for over an hour last night.  _ And had wanked to it… twice.  _ Gods he could barely look at them now, remembering all the sounds he had heard them making. But at the same time, he couldn’t look away from them either. Just as he had to listen to every sound they made the night prior, he had to watch them, had to be sure to catch every sideways glance, every brush of fingertips against each other, every smile, every nod. Whatever they did, he had to know. He couldn’t not know. 

“Lord Baratheon will be joining us for today’s council meeting. As the new Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, Gendry expressed a wish to sit in today in order to learn more about the duties and expectations of a High Lord. It is my wish that you all treat him with the respect he is due,” Daenerys announced once everyone who had been summoned to the meeting had arrived. It was all Jon could do not to roll his eyes. Especially when Dany’s words put the biggest, proudest smile on Davos’s face.

“Well done lad,” the old knight commended Gendry, patting him on the back. “Taking initiative. Great start to your Lordship.” Daenerys gave Gendry another sickeningly proud smile before continuing. 

“So, let’s just get right to it. Where do we stand after the Great War?” She looked to Grey Worm first who took a considerable number of markers off the map, indicating the remaining Unsullied soldiers.

“Half are gone,” he informed her. She looked to Jon next, her face entirely neutral.  _ Bitch. _

“The Northmen as well,” Jon supplied in as even a tone as possible, removing as many markers. The Dothraki  _ ko _ and Yohn Royce silently did the same. 

“And the Golden Company has arrived in King’s Landing courtesy of the Greyjoy Fleet.” Jon noticed Dany give a small flinch at Varys’s words and his fist clenched when he noticed Gendry look at her sympathetically.  _ Bastard. _ “The balance has grown distressingly even.” Still, there was no arguing with Varys’s assessment, even if Jon couldn’t take his eyes off the new lovers.  _ His _ lover and her new lover. He wanted to hit something. Gendry, preferably.

“When the people find out what we have done for them, that we saved them…” Missandei began, but Daenerys knew, like Jon did, that a hope like that was too much to ask for. 

“Cersei will make sure they don’t believe it. We will hit her hard. We will rip her out root and stem.” As angry as he was with her, Jon couldn’t fault her for her desire to take out Cersei. He wanted her gone as well. And with all his pent up energy and sexual frustration of late, a good fight might be exactly what he needed. 

“The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying King’s Landing,” Tyrion reminded Daenerys calmly and Jon wanted to roll his eyes at Tyrion’s naivete. Tyrion had been in battles before. He had fought. He knew what it was like. Jon had no idea why the man had suddenly become a pacifist, especially given whose Hand he was. 

“Thankfully,” Varys interjected, “she is losing allies by the day. Yara Greyjoy has retaken the Iron Islands in her Queen’s name.”

“Her own name,” Dany corrected. “We are allies, remember. I do not hold dominion over the Iron Islands. That was our arrangement.”

“You let the Iron Islands keep their independence?” Sansa blurted, to everyone’s surprise except for perhaps Jon, Daenerys, and Arya. Jon stared at his sister, wishing for just once, that she could shut the fuck up. “Why do the Iron Islands, of all the Kingdoms, get to keep their independence?” 

“Because they asked nicely,” Dany replied icily. “And they had something of value to offer me.”

“So the Northern soldiers that we’re supplying hold no value to you then?” Sansa spat back.  _ Gods, _ Jon wished he could just douce her in water to stop the petty cat fighting. 

“Yara took back the Iron Islands on her own,” Gendry butted in unexpectedly, causing everyone in the room to turn his way.  _ What? _ Wasn’t he just supposed to  _ watch _ this meeting unfold? “You lot wouldn’t have survived the Great War had Daenerys not shown up.” Sansa’s eyes widened and her nose flared menacingly, but Jon turned to watch Dany instead. How her mouth pursed slightly to hide the proud and smug smile he knew was threatening to creep through her queenly façade. 

And just as his sister was about to surely make a fool of herself, Daenerys spoke again. “Yes, thank you Lord Baratheon. The Queen of the Iron Islands has demonstrated her resilience and ability to fend for herself and take care of her people. I’ve given her nothing but she provided me with the ships necessary to ferry my armies to Westeros.  _ That _ is why the Iron Islands may retain their independence,” Dany told Sansa matter-of-factly, as if speaking to a small, slow minded child. Jon watched Gendry watch Daenerys with a gleeful smirk on his face, though he remained silent. 

“The North, however,” Dany went on, “would not have survived this winter, had I not come to save you all from the Army of the Dead. Your little sister might have landed the killing blow to the Night King, but it was  _ my armies _ that charged first, it was  _ my armies _ that held the line so your Northerners could retreat to the safety of the castle walls, and it was _ my armies _ that fought for a land they have no ties to, just to save  _ you _ . 

“You also do not have a fleet or any kind of export goods in order to trade with the other Kingdoms or Essos to sustain yourselves, should your wish be granted for “independence.” The Northern soldiers will assist in defeating Cersei as reciprocation for my help in the Great War  _ and _ because Cersei is as much your enemy as she is mine. I didn’t come all the way from Essos to defeat all your enemies for you so you could pretend you did it all yourselves.” The two women glared at each other for a moment until Dany added, “Unless of course you want your people to starve the remainder of the winter. In which case, I think you might want to ask them first if independence  _ is _ that important, because I’m not going to send food and money and aid free of cost to a Kingdom that refuses to recognize me once I take the Iron Throne.”

Sansa’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to add something, but thankfully she held her tongue. At the awkward silence that followed Dany’s speech, Varys cleared his throat. 

“The new Prince of Dorne also pledges his support.” The Spider set down a scroll with the Martell sigil on it and while Jon vaguely wondered just who in the Seven Hells was left in Dorne to become the new Prince of the place, he realized it didn’t much matter.

“These aren’t Lords who have turned  _ against _ Cersei,” Daenerys told Varys through gritted teeth. “Dorne and the Iron Islands were allies of mine from the start. I’m happy to know both nations are under strong leadership again but that does nothing for our cause. As long as she sits on the Iron Throne, she can call herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. We need the capital.”

“I watched the people of King’s Landing rebel against their King when they were hungry. And that was before winter began. Give them the opportunity and they will cast Cersei aside.” 

“We’ll surround the city,” Jon added, knowing his input was required in this farce of a meeting. He had no idea why they needed to hash and rehash this plan. Everyone knew what to do. Though if Jon were being honest with himself, which had been a hard thing for him to do the last twelve hours or so, he also just wanted Dany’s eyes on him, instead of scanning back to Gendry whenever there was a lull in discourse. “If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them. If the Lannisters and the Golden Company attack, we’ll defeat them in the field.” Only her eyes betrayed any of what had gone on between them the night before. The fight, her proposal, his rejection. He wondered how she could remain so strong with all they had put each other through. And then he was reminded when Gendry caught her eye again, brows raised.  _ What? _ What did that look mean? How did they even have looks yet? They had only been fucking for half a day. 

Tyrion continued as Gendry looked away from Dany, staring at the map before him with a frown. _Does he even know how to read a map? Can he even _**_read?_** Jon was being a shit, he knew. But he couldn’t help his petty thoughts. “Once the people see that Cersei is our only enemy, her reign is over.” Dany looked up to lock eyes with Jon one last time. _Yes, this is the right plan,_ he wanted to say to her, but the words stuck in his throat. It wasn’t his place to reassure her now. 

“Alright,” she finally agreed, Jon sighing with relief. Fuck, he just wanted this meeting to be over. 

“The men we have are exhausted,” Sansa chimed in unnecessarily.  _ Gods. Damn. It.  _ “Many of them are wounded. They’ll fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate.” 

“What about the food?” Gendry asked, speaking up once more. 

“What?” Sansa asked cooly, clearly deciding to ignore Dany’s wish at the beginning of the meeting to treat Gendry with respect. Not that Jon wanted to treat Gendry with respect either, but Gendry wasn’t fucking the love of Sansa’s life. She was just an elitist arsehole. 

Gendry looked between Sansa, Dany, and Arya, brows raised. “I thought… didn’t you say… Wasn’t food a big issue when we arrived? You didn’t have enough to feed everyone?” As much as he hated Gendry now, Jon almost snorted. They  _ did _ have enough food. They always had enough food, and Dany’s armies had brought plenty besides. That had just been Sansa’s little dig at Dany in that very first meeting with the Northern Lords, to make clear Sansa didn’t approve of her being there. 

Dany turned to Sansa, both brows raised, waiting for what she knew would be a less than clever reply. Jon watched his sister as well, slightly amused as she opened her mouth and fumbled for words. “Well, as you will no doubt learn, _ Lord _ Baratheon, soldiers’ recovery and wellbeing is of the utmost importance.”

“Wouldn’t their recovery and wellbeing depend on them being able to eat?” Jon looked up just in time to see Dany’s mouth twitch again but she hid her amusement well. 

“I’m sure we’ll be able to provide,” Sansa told Gendry through gritted teeth. 

“Wherever our soldiers are, we will make sure they’re well fed,” Jon butted in, keen to get on with the meeting. He turned to Dany once more. “Whatever you command, we will obey.”

“Soo,” Tyrion carried on awkwardly, “If all are in agreement, Jon and Ser Davos will ride down the King’s Road with the Northern troops and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied.” Jon moved the markers across the map, hating that Gendry watched him closely as he did so. “A smaller group of us will ride to White Harbor and sail from there to Dragonstone with our Queen and the dragons accompanying us from above.” 

“What?” Gendry asked, Grey Worm stopping just in front of Jon as he reached forward to move the markers. 

“What’s wrong?” Dany asked, looking from the map to Gendry. 

“Why are we going to sail back to Dragonstone?” Jon gritted his teeth and flexed his fist at Gendry’s premature use of the word  _ we. _ There was no  _ we _ between him and Dany. They were just fucking. It meant nothing.  _ Didn’t it? _

Dany looked taken aback by Gendry’s question, as did the rest of her council. “It’s my ancestral home, it’s been our base of operations since I arrived, it’s strategically placed close to King’s Landing. Why wouldn’t we go back there?”

“We didn’t leave anyone at Dragonstone when we sailed North,” Gendry reminded her and Jon’s stomach twisted just the slightest. Fuck, why had none of them thought of that? “Euron’s fleet attacked you twice before the parlay in King’s Landing. He’s still got a thousand ships, right?” 

“As far as we know,” Jon murmured darkly.  _ Damnit _ , Tyrion was such an idiot. And had Gendry not said anything, Jon would have just gone along with his moronic plan. 

“What’s wrong?” Tyrion huffed, clearly not seeing the issue before them. 

“What’s wrong is we have no way of knowing where Euron’s fleet is now,” Jon concluded for him. “He could be anywhere. And if you travel in open water, it makes you vulnerable. Cersei and Euron’s strength is their fleet. It would be best to avoid them. There’s no point in going back to Dragonstone either, as they could have already taken it over in our absence.”

Dany blinked several times at Jon’s words, and he watched her absorb the truth of them. She then shot an accusatory glance at Tyrion. “What  _ is _ the point of me flying with the ships back to Dragonstone?” she demanded.

Tyrion balked. “Well… if you fly above the fleet, you’ll be able to scout for Euron’s ships.”

“If we all travel together down the King’s Road, there’ll be no need to scout for his ships at all. Jon and Gendry are right. Why put ourselves in that situation? Rhaegal and Drogon are injured. If they’re flying over open water, they won’t have any opportunity to rest. And if we encounter Euron’s fleet, they won’t have the strength to protect our ships from his.”

“Well,” Tyrion gaped, eyeing the map. “Where do you want to go instead? Are we to just camp for weeks outside the city gates? We need a base. Dragonstone was our base.”

“And now it’s a death trap,” Jon concluded, again speaking just to feel Dany’s eyes on him.

“Wait,” Gendry butted in.  _ Damnit, does he ever shut up? _ “Where’s Storm’s End?” he asked, eyeing the map confused. Jon withheld from rolling his eyes. Was he a genius or an idiot?

“This only shows from the Kingswood and North of it,” Davos answered patiently. He then stepped around Daenerys and hovered a stumpy hand over the table where the map didn’t cover. “It’d be right about here. Actually…”

Davos looked to Dany then, determination in his eye. “Your Grace. Storm’s End is quite ideally placed for a siege of King’s Landing.”

“Storm’s End is ages away from King’s Landing,” Tyrion disagreed. “It would take our armies days to march in between the two.”

“Maybe, but the armies don’t need to be on the march. They just need to blockade the city. That’s the plan isn’t it? But for the dragons, they could make that flight in, what?”

“An hour, maybe two if the winds are harsh,” Dany answered. 

“If we needed you, you’d be a short raven’s scroll away. You would have a base. And you could hold meetings with the other Lords of Westeros in Storm’s End. You need to appoint a new Warden of the South. Meet with your new Prince of Dorne. Storm’s End is perfectly placed. While the armies blockade the city, you can focus on gathering the rest of the country to your side.”

“You can just meet with people from Winterfell, you know,” Sansa snipped. Fuck, there she went again. “We may be very distinct from the other Kingdoms, but the Southerners are no better than us. They can come here too.” At this, Dany did roll her eyes but she said nothing. A move Jon was actually quite impressed with as he dearly wanted to respond. However, before he could tell his sister off, Gendry spoke.  _ Again. _

“No one said the Southerners were better than the Northerners,” Gendry commented cooly. “That’s over a thousand miles people would need to travel just to meet with Queen Daenerys, on roads that grow more difficult to travel up because of the weather. If she’s in the south, people don’t have to go out of their way to swear allegiance to her. Or were you somehow under the impression it would be an easy journey to make, people coming up North?”

“Why are you here?” Sansa shot back. “You’re not even a real lord. You just got your title last night because of who your mother spread her legs for. Can you even read?” At his sister’s words, Jon’s mouth fell open.  _ What the fuck did she just say? _ He looked to Dany who had a similar shocked expression on her face, eyes locked on Sansa. All eyes in the room, in fact, turned abruptly to his  _ lovely _ sister, more mouths agape. Even Lord Royce and Arya — Sansa’s two greatest allies at Winterfell, Jon had observed — looked scandalized by her words. But before anyone else could even begin to comprehend the tactless and insensitive comment,  _ Ser Davos _ spoke up first.

“Forgive me,  _ Lady  _ Stark,” the grizzled old knight began, barely managing to contain the pure loathing that Jon could hear behind his words and see plain as day on his face. “But I think you would do well to remember that  _ some _ of us were not lucky enough to be born into a  _ privileged _ family with a knowledgeable maester at our beck and call to teach us pretty things like reading and writing.  _ Some _ of us had to claw our way up from the shit of the streets of King’s Landing to get where we are today.”

All the eyes that had snapped to Sansa at her comment were now lingering on Ser Davos. All mouths still hung agape. Dany was first to finally find her tongue after his words. 

“Thank you, Ser Davos,” she began politely.

“Forgive me, Your Grace—” Davos rushed, as if realizing his comments were not the kind typically spoken in front of a war council, in front of royalty. But Dany just shook off his apology. 

“There is nothing to forgive, Ser Davos,” she reassured him. “And you make an excellent point. We are not fighting this war against Cersei just so things can continue on as they always have. We  _ have  _ to remember the people we are fighting for. We’re fighting for the little boys who will grow up with bastard names and all the stigma that comes with them.” Jon’s skin jolted when she said  _ bastard. _ Even as angry with her as he was, she had never once referred to him as such. Had never judged him for his birth. And now Gendry too. That was who she was and it still astounded him, left him speechless. 

“We’re fighting for the little girls who are preyed upon and seduced by brothel keepers with the promise of warm meals in exchange for their virtue. For the children who don’t have maesters and parents and masters-at-arms to raise them and teach them and train them and protect them. For all the men and women who have already grown up without those things and struggle daily. We are fighting for them. We must always remember that.”

“Here, here!” Yohn Royce called, Jon knew, to gain Dany’s favor and possibly distance himself a little from Sansa, the nitwit wonder. But aside from Royce, the war council fell awkwardly silent. Dany cleared her throat.

“What do we know of the state of Storm’s End?” Dany asked the council at large and Ser Davos spoke up at once. 

“Stannis left  Ser  Gilbert Farring in charge as castellan when we went North. As far as I know, he’s still holding it and last I heard, had a garrison of about two hundred men.”

“Do you know the man well, Ser Davos?” Dany asked. Jon ground his teeth together. He fucking hated this. Not because it wasn’t a good plan. That was the problem. It was a great plan. But that didn’t mean Jon liked it any more. And he certainly didn’t like Davos’s close relationship with Gendry. Since Melisandre had brought him back from the dead, Davos had been as close a thing to a father that Jon had. But then he just had to go and bring Gendry into the mix. And then Dany just had to go and fuck Gendry.  _ Ugh. _

“I know him. Haven’t spoken to him in years. As far as I know, he hasn’t bent the knee to Cersei though.”

“Could he be persuaded to join our cause?”

“Could be,” Davos answered. 

“Well, that’s about as well as we can hope for these days, I suppose,” Dany said. “Alright. So the troops will be in King’s Landing, surrounding the city, starving Cersei out. The rest of us will be back at Storm’s End. What do you think would be best, Ser Davos, with these Lords of the Stormlands? Would they wish to be met with individually, or do you think they would appreciate a little pomp? We could hold a ball, or a tourney if that is the sort of thing they are used to.”

“I think the Lords of the Stormlands would appreciate a tourney very much, Your Grace. They haven’t had much to look forward to these past few years,” Davos informed Dany. “And Stannis never endorsed such events. Lord Renly did however, and it was what gained him such a following when he declared himself King.”

“Very well then. A tourney.” Jon rolled his eyes. Gods, the idea of a stupid tourney... “Although before all that, if we could lure Euron Greyjoy to Storm’s End… The castle is perfect for holding up against an attack from the sea, correct?”

“That’s right, Your Grace.”

“If he came to us, we could take care of his entire fleet then and there. Take out his flagship and him. Make an offer to the rest, serve under Yara Greyjoy and help us overthrow Cersei or burn—”

“Forgive me, Your Grace,” Tyrion butted in, “But all of this is riding on the  _ what-if _ of us being able to take Storm’s End with ease. If this Ser Gilbert is unwilling to bend the knee—”

“It’s better than sailing blindly to a castle we all but abandoned when there are one thousand enemy ships waiting for us, the gods only know where,” Dany pointed out. “I told you,” she rounded on Tyrion and Varys. “I told both of you I wanted to sink Euron’s ships right after they attacked Yara’s fleet and you cautioned me against it. If we had taken him out in the beginning, Cersei wouldn’t even have had the opportunity to sail the Golden Company to King’s Landing. Your alleged brilliant plans in this war cost Yara her freedom for months, cost Ellaria and her daughters their lives, cost Olenna Tyrell  _ her _ life. No more. Rhaegal and Drogon are injured. They’ll be safer flying over land. And if there are any problems with this Ser Gilbert, well, the dragons aren’t so injured they couldn’t fly over Storm’s End for a little intimidation.”

As Dany finished her speech and chastisement of Varys and Tyrion, the room fell awkwardly silent again. Luckily, Ser Davos spoke up once more.

“Once we’re there, we could call the Baratheon banners. All the Lords who had been sworn to Stannis, we can call on them to come swear their allegiance to Gendry as their Lord Paramount and they can bend the knee to Your Grace at the same time. We could stage a tourney after that.” Gendry’s eyes lit up at this.

“While we’re at it, why don’t we just have a ceremony?” Gendry added, and Jon’s heart stuttered at his words.  _ What in the world was he talking about?  _ Surely he couldn’t be so bold as to ask for her— “I’m forgetting what it’s called. Where the Septon puts oil on your head, naming you the true Queen.”

“Coronation? Anointing?” Davos offered. 

“An Anointing. Exactly.”  _ Oh thank the Gods.  _ He might have turned down Dany’s offer of marriage. But the idea of her marrying someone else… 

“There’s no High Septon,” Varys reminded Gendry.

“I know,” he replied coolly. “I was in King’s Landing the day the Faith Militant dragged him naked through the streets.” Varys’s lips twitched a little at this but he said nothing. “I was in King’s Landing the day Cersei blew up the Great Sept of Baelor.” Gendry paused a moment, and Jon watched disgusted as Dany eyed Gendry with fascination. “The people have no Head of Faith. They have no central place of worship. They’re afraid to even attend service at the little shack septs in Flea Bottom because of Cersei.” Gendry turned fully to Dany then. “If  _ you _ appoint a new High Septon and he anoints you, all those who follow the Seven will  _ have _ to recognize you as their Queen. It may be a small thing—”

“It wouldn’t be a small thing,” Yohn Royce interrupted. “Faith is important to many people. Lord Baratheon is right.” Royce looked slightly surprised with himself to be agreeing with someone who had been born a bastard. 

“What about those who follow the old gods?” Arya asked, her voice only betraying a small hint of resentment toward her former lover and once potential husband. 

“The people of Westeros would be free to follow whichever gods they choose,” Dany assured. “I won’t be imposing any laws restricting that and whatever laws are in place currently, I’ll abolish so people know they are free to worship as they please. But to be endorsed by  _ the _ major faith in the Seven Kingdoms…” Dany blinked and looked at Gendry as if she were seeing him in an entirely different light. Jon’s stomach squirmed. “It’s brilliant.” Gendry smiled and the way his eyes lit up at her praise made Jon want to vomit.

But while it pained him to see the connection slowly forming between them, solidifying their bond as more than mere fucking, he couldn’t deny the genius of Gendry’s plan. While everyone else had been babbling about battles and soldiers and ships and dragons, Gendry was thinking on a completely different level.  _ Because he grew up on the streets, like her, _ he thought. Yet another similarity the two shared. 

Jon wished he could take it back. Take it all back. Just go back to that moment of the two of them in the crypts before the battle and not say anything. Go to Bran and Sam and swear them to secrecy and just carry on with Dany as they had been. But it was far too late for all that. 

His beloved’s voice knocked him out of his melancholic revery. “… like a list drawn up of possible candidates for appointment to the position of High Septon.” 

“I believe the faith typically chooses one of their own,” Varys tried to explain. 

“Then why haven’t they done so for the last few years?” Dany snapped. “Just get me the list.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” 

“Ser Davos,” Dany went on, and Davos looked to her, face filled with pride. “Gather a small retinue with men of your choosing and all the supplies you need to ride for Storm’s End. When the castle is secure, send word, and we will meet you there.”

“At once, Your Grace.” 

“With any luck, in a few week’s time, we’ll be setting off for the Stormlands.” Dany turned to Gendry then and the two exchanged a look much too heated for such a public setting, at least to Jon’s eyes. When he cleared his throat loudly, her eyes flickered back toward the map and room at large. “Everyone knows their duties. Let’s get to work.”

With that, the meeting was concluded and Jon didn’t want to spend a second longer in a room with…  _ them. _ Not just because of Dany’s praise of Gendry throughout the meeting and Gendry actually pointing out some important flaws in Tyrion’s plan, but also because Jon couldn’t stop thinking about the things he had heard last night. Daenerys on top of him, riding him to not one, but two orgasms. Gendry grunting as he came inside her.  _ Inside MY Queen.  _

And he couldn’t stop thinking about the question that Dany had asked him last night either. Before they arrived in Winterfell, he had planned it all. He would bring her down to the crypts, take her to his father’s statue and ask for Ned’s blessing in a silent prayer. Then he would ask Dany for her hand. 

He had wanted it more than anything. Terribly, he still did. But it would be wrong.  _ We’re Targaryens. Targaryens have married closer relatives! _ But he was only half Targaryen. He was raised in the North. Northerners didn’t fuck their aunts.  _ Northerners don’t masturbate while listening to their aunts getting fucked either.  _

And perhaps the  _ worst _ part about all of it… Jon thought he would do it again if he had the chance. But why just leave it up to chance? He knew where Gendry’s chambers were. He knew where Dany’s chambers were. He could do it again whenever he wanted. 

_ I shouldn’t. _

But as Jon entered his bedchamber to dress for dinner, pausing in his disrobing to take his cock in hand, he knew he was in for another late night in a room that was not his own. 

_ A/N: So the way I had originally imagined the Jon/Arya scene was Arya walking in on Jon masturbating to Dany and Gendry having sex. But I decided to spare him that embarrassment.  _

_ Yes, I know the Sandsnakes were not all Ellaria’s daughters. Technically Tyene isn’t either though, it’s just easier to write (for the hardcore fic junkies who simply cannot let little things like this go, thought I’d explain). _

_ And yes, so if you noticed, since Jon leaves immediately, he does not get cornered by Arya and Sansa after the war council for their little “family intervention.” So Jon does not get the chance to tell them about who he is. We are spared that idiotic plotpoint. _

_ If you’re keeping up with the “kink” tags, we’ve ticked off Gendry’s “getting caught” kink (the first sex scene) and Jon’s “listening to others have sex” kink. Still have a few more to go! ;) _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand you guys have lost your anon commenting privileges.


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